


Summer in Kaleidoscope

by transatlantyks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21617485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transatlantyks/pseuds/transatlantyks
Summary: On a summer afternoon at the park, Will Byers meets his soulmate and learns what the colour of the sky looks like on a sunny day at three in the afternoon.
Relationships: Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	Summer in Kaleidoscope

**Author's Note:**

> * A short drabble for a soulmates AU prompt I received on tumblr.  
* In this AU, most people have achromatic vision until they exchange names with / properly meet any one of their soulmates, and then they start seeing colour.

( It cost him a scraped knee and a couple of pebbles digging into the soft skin of his palms, but it had been worth it. ) 

Will knows he should know better than to swing up so high, but it’s _fun_, _freeing_: feet swinging high up above the charcoal dark earth, towards the light of the gray sky. Up, up and down, until he’s falling and hitting the ground. 

He’s not quite sure how it happens: maybe he doesn’t push his legs forward all the way, or maybe he really is getting too tall for these swingsets, because his feet are unexpectedly hitting the ground and as he tries to catch himself, he trips, trips, and down he goes. 

He falls face down, though he manages to catch himself by falling on his hands and knees instead of face-planting the ground, but that’s still going to end on a scraped knee, and his hands tingle and burn. 

“Ah,” Will frowns, grimacing when he sits back and pulls his knee up from underneath him to look at the scratch on it. Before he can worry too much about the fresh scratch that is already starting to bleed, he hears the sound of someone running towards him, sneakers loud and fast against the ground.

“Hey! Are you okay?” says the boy. He has dark hair, practically uncombed, or maybe wind-blown from running around the park. He’s wearing a pair of shorts with slightly muddy tube socks pulled up almost to the knees, just like him. Kindly, he extends his hand to help Will up from the ground, and Will takes it. 

“Um, yeah, I’m alright,” Will says with a nervous smile, embarrassed to have been caught falling. He looks down, brushing the dirt away from his knees with his hands. 

“Good. That looked like kind of a bad fall,” says the kid, watching him. There's a brief moment of silence in which Will just shakes his head (_don't worry about me_), before Mike starts again: “Um, you go to Hawkins Middle School, right? I’ve seen you in Mr. Clarke’s class but I don’t think I’ve ever had a chance to say hi.”

“Yeah, I’m in Mr. Clarke’s class,” Will nods. It might be a small school, but Will’s not often talkative around strangers, likes the comfort of constructing his imaginary worlds which he then puts onto the pages of his sketchbook. “I’m Will.”

“Mike,” he extends his hand to shake Will’s, this time in proper greeting, and it’s at that moment that Will’s world — the grass and the sky and the sun, moon, stars, everything, all at once — changes. The current that flows through his surroundings is so strong that he’s startled by the suddenness and force of it; a swift but rich gust of wind blowing every shade and tint of colour, one by one, into his previously achromatic world. 

For a moment, Will’s breathing stops. He gives the other boy, this Mike, a wide-eyed glance. The words are caught in his chest along with the air in his lungs, but his look says it all: _can you see it, too? Can you see the world like I do?_

By the stunned glances Mike’s giving the park, Will thinks the answer is _yes_.

It is beautiful and breathtaking. The world around him seems to gain a new flow and brightness in its motions. The blood on his knee raw and bright against the fresh, comforting colour of the earth beneath his feet. Neverending blue sky! _This is what the sky looks like,_ thinks Will. This is what blue looks like on a sunny summer day at three in the afternoon. Even the clouds seem clouds seem even more fluffy and rich against its expanse. Touchable, almost. 

“You see it…?” Mike starts but trails off, because it’s obvious that Will does. 

And Will cannot wait to go home and open his box of crayons again to see _cornflower blue_ and _burnt sienna_, _goldenrod_ and _thistle_ against the blank sheets of paper. Can’t wait to see what his old drawings, coloured before with only a textbook base for colour, actually look like. Wants to know what his mom actually saw when she looked at them. 

And he wants to see a rainbow, too. Mr. Clarke had told them everything about rainbows, but knowing about refraction and reflection is no comparison for the real thing, Will imagines. 

“It’s ama-”  
“It’s amazing,” they both say in near unison, before looking at each other and laughing. 

“Yeah,” Will says. And he’s thinking, _so what now?_ He’s never thought much about the concept of a soulmate. All he’s ever wanted are a couple of friends, so maybe he and Mike are supposed to be friends or _best friends_, even. Only he’s not really thinking much of what it means now, either, because he’s far too excited about seeing this much, this life in multicolour, a kaleidoscope summer that’s only just beginning. 

Finally, it’s Mike who speaks up again. 

“Oh, you should get that patched up,” he says, trying to break out of his haze. The alarming colour of the blood on Will's knee seems to do the trick for him, at least for a moment. “Do you want to come to my house? We have a first-aid kit. And I can ask mom to get you an ice pack or something. Maybe we can watch some cartoons afterwards, too?” (Scooby-Doo and He Man are going to be awesome, Mike thinks.) “I mean, I know we just met—” but before Mike can finish, Will’s interrupting. 

“Yeah, I’d like that. As long as your mom doesn’t mind.”

“No way, don’t worry about it! She totally wants me to have more friends. Let’s go!” 

The rest of the summer goes by in a blur of cartoon motion.

**Author's Note:**

> * Inspiration for that last line comes from the title of Mika's album "Life in Cartoon Motion."  
* Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed reading this! It would make me very happy, and I hope this drabble has made some of you equally happy.


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